


This Chasm So Deep

by Trobadora



Category: She-Ra: Princess Of Power
Genre: F/F, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trobadora/pseuds/Trobadora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things you find at the bottom of a chasm. The things you discover climbing out of the deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Chasm So Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zarabithia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/gifts).



> This can be read as a sequel to [The Old Game](http://archiveofourown.org/works/148482). 
> 
> Many thanks to Sholio and Woj for beta-reading!

They're winning. The Rebellion is driving the Horde's tanks and Troopers out of Silver Lake. Catra and her crew are fighting a losing fight, and She-Ra is sure that if Shadow Weaver weren't there with them, they'd have long since retreated. Catra isn't one for brave last stands; she knows when to cut her losses. But not with Hordak's sorceress looking over her shoulder: if there's one thing Catra can't stand it's losing face. So she's throwing her all into this.

She-Ra is a fraction of a second too slow when a torpedo slams into her - she manages to catch it and throw it high into the air before it explodes, but she loses her grip on her sword in the process. Catra lunges, seeing her opening.

Catra is merely covering a retreat here, and they both know it. But it only makes her more angry. A punch, an elbow in the gut, a foot hooked around a calf - Catra is formidable, but no match for She-Ra, sword or no. She-Ra delivers a vicious blow to Catra's head, and she's thrown back violently against the brick wall of an abandoned house. Like the great cat she can transform into, Catra lands on her feet. She always does. But She-Ra will take her out of this fight. 

She-Ra's eyes flicker over the battlefield, taking in everything, planning her next moves. A jump, bouncing off the shattered remains of a Horde tank just there, a punch to Catra's jaw, a somersault, and then she'll seize her from behind. There'll be no breaking from that hold.

She-Ra very carefully doesn't think about what she'll do - what she can possibly do - with Catra once she's captured her. One thing at a time. She has a duty.

She's about to jump when there's a furious, penetrating screech from Shadow Weaver, who can't hold back the Rebellion's forces any longer, and a blast of magic drowns everything in blinding dark.

When She-Ra's eyes clear again, she's at the edge of a chasm. Shadow Weaver has cleaved the earth in two to safeguard the Horde's retreat. Catra stands at the opposite edge, and for a moment, they simply look at each other.

Then the earth crumbles beneath She-Ra's feet, and she's falling.

She's tumbling down - down, further down. She-Ra can't reach the walls of the gaping rift Shadow Weaver's magic has opened, and without her sword there's no hope of breaking the fall. Above, more of the earth is crumbling from the edges. Bits of dirt and rock are falling along with her - and then she sees Catra tumble from the edge as well.

Falling, falling. Far too deep. Magic has opened the earth impossibly far. Above her, Catra transforms into her cat form, the better to survive the inevitable impact. But even for her, even in this form, this will be too deep.

Finally the fall ends, and She-Ra slams into the rocky ground, dirt and fragments of rock exploding in the air. Somewhat dazed, she struggles to her feet. It's dim down here, but somehow not too dim to see. She's left a deep indentation - even she will have bruises from this. 

_Too deep. A fall like this ..._

There's only a moment to decide. She-Ra crouches down, then uses her considerable strength to propel herself into the air, meeting the falling great cat before it can crash, fatally, into the ground.

And then it slams her into the ground with the force of its impact. A heavy weight is bruising her ribs, and fragments of rock are raining down on her. When the cloud of dust and dirt around her clears, She-Ra is lying on her back with a giant cat on top of her. 

With Catra on top of her.

Catra, who is hissing and spitting and transforming back into her human shape.

They're both all right. She's broken Catra's fall. She-Ra suppresses a surge of relief.

They jump apart with alacrity and glare at one another.

  


* * *

  


Neither of them says a word at first. Catra certainly doesn't thank her, for all that she'd likely have broken every bone in her body without She-Ra's intervention.

Instead they awkwardly ignore each other while still acutely aware of the other's presence, looking up in the dim light, up at the crumbling walls of the chasm.

There's no space to take a running start. She-Ra crouches and flings herself up into the air as high as she can, but she doesn't make it more than a third of the way up. Resigned, she somersaults and lets herself fall, landing on her feet beside Catra.

If only She-Ra had her sword; then it would be a matter of moments. Transform it into hook and rope, a throw, and out she would be. Or if the walls were solid rock, she might jump and grab hold, but the sides of the chasm are too unstable for that. She'd simply knock loose more scree, and find nothing to hold. 

It's climb or nothing.

Climbing with Catra at her back? No.

"Has the mighty She-Rrrra finally found a problem her powers can't solve?" Catra purrs at her at that very moment. She has a hand at her hip, her lips are pursed sarcastically, and everything about her radiates tension.

"I can climb," She-Ra snaps. "So can you, I expect." 

Catra flexes her claws, takes an aggressive step forward. "Better than you."

"Well, then." She-Ra offers a smile that's pure provocation. Something in Catra always brings this out in her. _This, and ..._ She suppresses the thought and gestures up at the wall. "After you."

Catra flinches back. She bares her teeth. "Over your dead body," she hisses. Clearly she's no more ready to climb with an enemy at her back than She-Ra is. 

"You can try," She-Ra retorts calmly, and tells herself she's not enjoying the impotent fury in Catra's eyes, in every line of her body. Catra knows she has no chance of overpowering She-Ra. Adora, she could take, but She-Ra is so far out of her league, there's no competition. And Catra furiously, helplessly hates it. Hates her lack of control.

It gives She-Ra a grim, vicious satisfaction, and it makes her want to offer concessions, to soothe Catra, to let her have what she craves.

That last is nothing but a relic of times past, of course. The times when she and Catra walked side by side are long over. When Adora would ease the tension out of Catra's body, would let Catra work out her frustrations and her fears on Adora's body, let Catra's hands and voice ...

She-Ra shakes the thought. She must remember they're enemies now.

But they're not _just_ enemies, are they? They know each other too well for that. Adora may have been under Shadow Weaver's spell when she and Catra served in the Horde together, but that doesn't change all the ways they know each other.

And Catra has kept Adora's secret for years now. Catra has never let anyone know that She-Ra and Adora are the same person. For reasons of her own, naturally - she's not one to give away an advantage, and she's only waiting for the right moment to use it. She-Ra reminds herself of that every time she encounters Catra. It doesn't help.

And here they are, locked in a futile stalemate at the bottom of a chasm, glaring at each other, moments from resorting to violence when it'll serve neither of them here and now.

She-Ra sighs. It falls to her, of course. It always falls to her. Catra never makes the first move. They glare at each other, Catra in fury and She-Ra in frustration.

"Truce?" She-Ra suggests, finally. 

A curt, jerky nod is all she gets. But from Catra, that's concession enough.

  


* * *

  


It's a long and tiresome climb up the unstable walls. More than once, one of them slips. And it doesn't become less tiresome with Catra's constant jibes and jeers. Finally She-Ra snaps, "Can't handle being on the losing side, Catra?"

Catra hisses, but doesn't dispute it - she can't. The Horde clearly isn't winning this war, is in fact losing ground every week, and Catra isn't stupid.

She-Ra bites down something more vicious and says, "Why are you even still with the Horde? It's not like you. What do you still get out of it?" It's a genuine question, for all that she does her best to make it sound like a jibe. Catra's only loyalty is to herself. Whatever she does is whatever gives her the best advantage. She-Ra knows this. By all rights, Catra should long have given up on the Horde.

Catra says nothing for a while. Then, "Would the Great Rebellion like to add another former Force Captain to its ranks?" Catra's voice is biting. "I should think you'd be quite enough for them on that score."

And this is why she shouldn't have started _talking_ to Catra, She-Ra thinks. Catra knows too much, and it's only going to get more uncomfortable from here. But she's started, and now she can't stop. "The Rebellion is winning, Catra. You used to at least try to be on the winning side."

Catra spits. "The Rebellion is winning now. What happens after the Horde is gone? You'll all just go back to your separate kingdoms and realms, telling yourself everything's all right now. There's no future in it."

"You underestimate Etheria," She-Ra says curtly. "You always did."

"You would think so," Catra sneers. 

Catra, of course, cares nothing about Etheria one way or another. Even the Horde is no more than a means to an end for her. No, she doesn't want to be on the losing side - but she wants far more than just not to lose. She wants to _rule_. The Horde is no longer the path to that for her, but nothing else has presented itself. Catra, She-Ra begins to realise, is at loose ends. She doesn't actually have a plan right now.

She's staying with the Horde because she can't decide where else to go.

It's a not entirely comfortable realisation.

"There's no future in your rebellion," Catra repeats, insistent. "Why would I ally myself with that?" 

Catra is clearly not expecting an actual answer. She-Ra gives her one anyway, wrapping it in a taunt: "What have you got to lose?" 

She gets no response.

  


* * *

  


After a long climb, they arrive on a ledge in the wall and take a break. They don't sit side by side - She-Ra sits on one side of the ledge, and Catra on the other. Yet they stare at each other, or perhaps glare would be the word.

Then Catra stands, rolls her shoulders and stretches her muscles. She crosses the few feet that separate them and stands over She-Ra, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. Finally she crouches down, close.

Too close.

She leans in, closer, her hair tickling She-Ra's cheek. "You want it, don't you?" she purrs into She-Ra's ear. "You want me to turn on the Horde. Even though you know it means nothing, you want that." And she pulls back, just enough to be able to look into She-Ra's face. "Why?"

That's the part She-Ra would prefer not to think about. What does it matter, indeed? But it does.

"The Rebellion could use a spy on the inside," she says. She has rationalisations aplenty. But most of all, she wants Catra out of there.

Catra snorts. "Now you've lost it. You really expect me to join _you_?"

Expect? No. But it would make sense. They may never be on the same side, but ... "Prolonging a war that's already lost helps neither of us," She-Ra reminds her. They're still close, in each other's space, and Catra is making no move to change that. Neither is She-Ra. It's as if they both sense something's about to happen, and are wary of making too rash a move.

Catra's eyes narrow, then her lips twist into a smirk. "And what would be in it for me?" She trails a finger down She-Ra's neck, down between her breasts, leaving a smear in the dust on her skin. "I'll leave the Horde eventually, you know that already. It'd make far more sense if I just cut my losses, don't you think? Why would I help _you_?"

She-Ra captures Catra's hand with her own, pulls it away from her and holds it firmly for a moment. Catra can't escape her grip, and knows it; the fury in her eyes is unmistakable. Then She-Ra lets go. "A truce with the Rebellion?" she suggests quietly. "We're enemies now. If you helped us in this, you wouldn't have to worry about having us at your back when it's over. Whatever you do next."

It's quite the offer, and She-Ra's not entirely sure she should be making it. But the war has dragged on long enough, and with every week longer more people die even as the Rebellion is winning. 

Catra looks at her, incredulous. "You're serious."

"Very," She-Ra says and realises at the same moment that it's true.

For a long moment she thinks Catra might actually be considering it, but then Catra snorts a laugh. "Future promises. You seriously think I'd go for that? Ridiculous." Then her eyes turn intense, and she leans closer again. "Have you no better enticement, She-Rrrrra?" Her breath ghosts over She-Ra's face, and then sharp teeth nip at her chin. "Care to offer something ... real?"

She-Ra's breath catches in her throat. "Catra ..." she whispers. She can't do this. She can't. But Catra is crowding her against the back of the ledge, straddling her legs now, drawing a clawed finger across her throat. It feels just like ... 

She shivers. She's never felt like this when she was She-Ra. She's never had anyone touch her like this when she was She-Ra.

"No," she says, and pushes Catra back, holding her wrists firmly. She's a hero, and that's her purpose: to stand up for others. Adora might have a life, might have weaknesses; She-Ra has only her duty. Adora might give in; She-Ra cannot.

Catra's grin is feral. "Afraid, She-Rrrra? Tell me, what do you have to lose?"

Already her skin is flushing from Catra's closeness, the sense memory of long ago nearly overwhelming. But she can't, of course. It's out of the question.

Catra leans forward, closes the distance between them. "Adora," she whispers against her lips. 

She-Ra shivers and tilts her head back, giving in to temptation.

  


* * *

  


She no longer knows who she is. She-Ra, Adora, it all blurs. It makes no difference. All she is is skin under Catra's hands, Catra's lips. They're both still fully clothed, but she feels naked nonetheless.

Teeth and tongue, claws and fingertips on her face, her throat ...

Then, abruptly, it stops. Catra pulls away, looks down at her, a cruel twist to her mouth, dark pleasure shining in her eyes.

She-Ra blinks away her daze. "Damn it, Catra!" she demands, and isn't surprised at all when it rates her a vicious backhand, just as it would have once upon a time.

Adora would have bruised, though. She almost misses that. But She-Ra won't have a mark on her, and that's the only justification she has for allowing it. So she's grateful.

"You're forgetting yourself," Catra sneers, and wraps her hand in She-Ra's long hair, dragging her forward, pulling her down. "You know where you belong."

She-Ra could stop this at any moment. She could push Catra away, could keep her from trying anything again. And she should. If this were only about winning Catra's cooperation, she would. If push comes to shove, she's the one in control.

But Catra's words echo heavily with their shared history, and She-Ra lets herself be pushed between Catra's legs. What _does_ she have to lose? She can let herself have this, just here, just now. She-Ra nuzzles against Catra's crotch, mouths the fabric of her costume. 

Catra hisses. "Go on, kitten," she orders.

Something clenches inside She-Ra at the old endearment, something low in her belly. She quickly undoes Catra's clothes. Catra is wet already, and the taste is heady, musky and familiar. She-Ra doesn't use her hands. There's only her mouth on Catra, and Catra's hand in her hair, occasionally yanking her closer, or holding her still. Catra bucks against her tongue, lets out a mewling whine when she scrapes her teeth against Catra's clit.

When Catra comes, she presses herself harder against She-Ra's face, so that She-Ra can hardly breathe.

It's this that pushes her over the edge, and she shudders through her climax still held tightly by Catra's hand in her hair.

  


* * *

  


It solves nothing, of course. They can't forgive each other. She-Ra can't forgive Catra for trading everything for power; Catra can't forgive her for finding more important things. For leaving her. They're enemies, and that's not about to change. Their goals are incompatible: Adora wants Etheria free; Catra wants to rule. Even if their interests align for a time, that will always be true.

This is merely a stolen moment, changing nothing. And yet ...

  


* * *

  


She licks Catra clean - Catra, of course, accepts the service as her due - and wipes her face on her cape. She's dripping wet herself under her skirt, but there's nothing to be done about that now. She-Ra sits back on the ledge and studies her old friend, her old enemy. Then she smirks.

"Enough enticement?" she suggests.

Catra snorts. "Perhaps," is all she says.

  


* * *

  


They continue their climb eventually, in silence. There's nothing left to be said. The wetness between She-Ra's legs is uncomfortable, but it's also a reminder. Even when she is She-Ra, she is still Adora. She still wants. She is still allowed to want. She-Ra vows never to forget it again.

Once, Catra slips and nearly falls. She-Ra catches her and holds her until she's found a foothold again. Catra says nothing, but neither does she glare.

  


* * *

  


When they reach the top, they emerge onto an empty battlefield. No one's left here; both sides have moved on. The chasm cleaves empty devastation in two. She-Ra finds her sword stuck in a rock, where no one without her strength could remove it. At least it didn't fall into enemy hands. She picks it up and looks at Catra, calculatingly. Now's the time for a decision.

She can tell from the tension in Catra's body that there's something going on in there, but of course Catra won't say. She never does.

It always falls to Adora to make the first move. 

She steps closer. "Enough enticement?" she asks again, quietly.

Catra doesn't answer for a long time. "Are you offering more?" she finally retorts. 

She-Ra smirks. "Maybe."

Catra's incredulous look is almost comical. Then she snorts and throws up her hands, her lip curling in disgust. "Fine!" she exclaims, even as she turns away and begins to stride toward the next Horde base. "Have it your way," she throws over her shoulder. "Until next time."

She-Ra looks after her and smiles.


End file.
